


Who Wears Short Shorts?

by brotherfuckers



Series: Striderclan [13]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blow Jobs, Denial, Fighting Dirty, Incest, M/M, Multi, Sibling Incest, Stridercest - Freeform, Strife - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:29:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brotherfuckers/pseuds/brotherfuckers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>D is bored out of his mind. So much so that it leads to a plan in which to use certain assets against Bro in a strife that leads to pleasant consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Wears Short Shorts?

Dirk: First blood or surrender ends the fight.  
Bro: Don’t be stupid.  
Dave: loser submits to winner  
D: anything is fair ;) 

* * *

D feels twitchy.

The twins are dutifully working on school assignments. Bro is sewing costumes for a set of puppets. D can't quite tell if they are the safe for work kind or the kind that you keep far far away from children. D is home from a recent movie premier. There aren’t any projects in the pipeline. And nothing is itching at his fingers to be written.

In short, D is bored.

He stretches out across the futon, his toes pointing off the ends and his hands brushing up against the wall on the other end. He settles back down and closes his eyes, hoping to get some sleep to bide his time.

After five minutes of shifting around on the futon, D gives up.

With a frustrated sigh, D peels himself up from futon, grabs his keys, and leaves the apartment. As he skips down the stairs, his phone goes off with a text.

  
TT: Everything cool?  
TG: everything is chill as a frosty bottle of aj in the refrigerator that is salvation on a hot houston summer day where it is hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk even though no one would ever eat an egg cooked on the sidewalk so that is waste of food but the metaphor still stands  
TT: K.

He pulls out of the parking lot still without a specific destination.

The streets of Houston shimmer lightly as they leak the day’s heat. The temperature isn’t as hot as he creatively described in his text, but it makes for interesting mirages over the subtle gradient changes in the road.

Remembering Dave going on about his best friend’s pranking habits gives D an inspired idea that will be perfectly fulfilled by the sporting good store that he is passing by. He makes an executive decision and cuts across three lanes of traffic, garnering several angry honks, to pull into the parking lot. He pulls on one of the many hats lying around the car (how did Bro even leave this many hats, he hasn’t been in the car that many times) and forgoes his signature aviator sunglasses. His mutant red eyes are almost dark enough to pass as brown and the additional shade from the brim should cover the rest. With a mischievous smile he nearly skips into the store.

* * *

TG: roof  
TG: strife  
TG: now  
TG: what why what did i do d  
TG: shit wrong brother

TG: roof  
TG: strife  
TG: now  
TT: Seriously? Is this why Dave is freaking out next to me?  
TG: fuck wrong brother again  
TT: Dude.

TG: roof  
TG: strife  
TT: Now?  
TG: n fuck you  
TT: I can understand havin confusion between the entries Dave and Dirk. But how did you fuck up gettin to my name in your phone. Bro starts with B. Learn your alphabet.  
TG: but derrick starts with d and is in between dave and dirk  
TG: learn your alphabet  
TT: If I win, we are fixing your phone.  
TG: get your ass up here

D leans against the shade of the air conditioning unit. He hears the rattle of the fire escape before he sees the twins pop up above the roofline. He grins at them and motions them to find seats. He turns back to the stairwell door just in time to catch Bro coming out. Neither move in to fight immediately, taking a moment instead to look the other over.

Bro’s pristine white polo with a ridiculous popped collar is paired with black jeans and matching black leather gloves. His anime shaped shades are tucked up under the brim of a bright blue cap. His sword hangs loosely in his hand by his side in mock carelessness.

D stands just as casually with baggy athletic pants, the kind with snaps up the side, just barely staying on his hips. Conversely, the black tank top hugs his torso like a second skin and shows off his lean muscle. Bro’s eyes narrow minutely at the padded gloves on his hands but doesn’t have too long to contemplate their presence before D moves to the offensive.

Dirk and Dave can barely follow the older Striders as they strife on the roof. The clash of metal on metal rings out over the quick tapping of their footwork. D’s moves are more acrobatic as he leaps and jumps off surfaces, trying to find a better angle of attack, where Bro’s are more traditional, even slipping back into his fencing schooling. D keeps on the offensive, only blocking when Bro gets a good parry in between his flurry of blows. Bro’s lips are pressed into a flat line, the edges threatening to twitch up into a smile.

D gets frustrated by the way he can’t draw Bro out. He just keeps his feet always touching the ground, bouncing on the soles of his feet but still not leaping and jumping around like D who likes to use every surface of the roof. D’s brows furrow as he tried to get inside the wall of flickering steel. He baits Bro with obvious openings but is ignored for the safer attack. He sneers as Bro avoids the risky moves even as D presses forward, dangerously close.

Annoyed by his younger brother D leaps up next to where the twins are sitting on the air conditioning unit. His heel catches on one of the panels as he comes out of the flip and he stumbles on the dismount. Dirk almost leaps to his feet to catch his older brother. Dave simply laughs at D’s flailing arms before the eldest catches his balance. Bro snickers down below. D recovers and glares at those laughing at him.

“Bro, you are thinking too hard about fighting. Getting too intellectual about strifing. But I got a way to make you dumber,” he boasts. Then with careful consideration of where his sword is pointing and swinging, D rips the tear-away sport pants in one smooth motion.

Dave bursts into another round of laughing as both Dirk’s and Bro’s jaws drop.

“When I win this you owe me a hummer.” D poses confidently, showing off the revealed pair of shorts that seem to cover only the bare minimum to keep from garnering a public indecency violation. The shorts come just below his ass, though from the other brothers’ angles that doesn’t hide anything (like the obvious lack of underwear) especially as the edging rounds up to the shallow slits on the sides. Between the short shorts and the tightness of his shirt showing off his body, the only things covered on D are his eyes and his feet. Bro’s eyes track up his long legs that seem to go on forever. D watches him shift his own jeans into a more comfortable position.

He only smirks for a second before he jumps off of the unit in a leaping attack, coming nearly vertically down on Bro’s sword, which he barely got up in time. D takes advantage of his surprise to spin off of the block and gets inside Bro’s range while his arms are still up. The spin puts D’s back up against Bro’s torso and he takes advantage of that fact with a grind of his ass against Bro’s crotch. He feels a growl of breath across the back of his neck before spinning away to try to get a blow on Bro’s back. Again his attack is barely deflected.

As the fight continues, D can tell that Bro’s concentration is thrown off. D works with that, making sure to get enough distance between them to make extra hip movements, throwing in more spins, bending over to pull the shorts up even farther. D can hear the rhythm in Bro’s footsteps skip a beat or two. On a particular tease, Bro’s grip on his sword actually falters enough to let D get close enough that he gets his legs around one of Bro’s. He only gets one roll of his hips against Bro’s thigh before Bro manages to get his sword into position again, though D can see the fight with himself on Bro’s face.

D’s tactics continue to become wilder, much to the appreciation of the crowd of two, as Bro’s distraction gives him wider clearance. He kicks his legs up and Bro has to block the attempted blow to the head with his forearm but gets a good look at D’s crotch before D is spinning away. D throws more cheap shots that take advantage of Bro’s leniency. Thrown punches are ducked, wide sword swipes are blocked, kicks are sidestepped or borne through the brunt of it with a bruising arm. All to test Bro’s flustered defenses. That is, until one of D’s right hooks lands on Bro’s jaw.

D can hear the stunned gasps of the twins as Bro holds the twisted position and D dances away, giddy with fear and delight.

When Bro straightens up, there is a set to his shoulders that means D’s short shorts aren’t going to do the trick anymore. The gig was up. Time to retire that plan. It had served its time and now should be shelved back with all of the other crippled veteran ideas that D’s been able to pull out during his strifes with Bro.

Time to move to plan B.

Bro comes after him viscously. D falls into the defensive position, reverting back to correct schooling. He uses muscle memory to get his sword up in time. But as his style gets tighter, Bro’s style gets looser. He puts more power behind his strikes and makes bigger swings with further pullback. D sees his opportunity, now he just has to execute it, which is easier said than done because Bro is definitely anticipating something happening. He knows D will have a plan B. And a plan C. And a plan D. Strifes with the eldest Strider aren’t ever straightforward encounters. And now with the twins coming into their own, those aren’t either.

When one of Bro’s strikes rattles D’s grip all the way up to his shoulder, D realizes what he can do. He manages to maneuver Bro back to the open area of the roof through strategic retreats that just serve to pull Bro’s aggression out even further. He counts out three blows and then on the fourth he lets Bro’s sword knock his own out of his hands. It goes clattering across the roof and Bro’s eyes go wide behind his glasses as he tries to recover his overswing. D takes his confusion in stride and throws himself at Bro with a loud shout. Dirk and Dave echo the shout but with panic in their voices as Bro’s only gotten his sword in front of him, lined up with D’s bodily attack.

His only option to keep from impaling his older brother to to just drop his sword with a flick of his wrist and even then it’s close as D tackles Bro to the ground. There is a quick tussle accompanied by a constant stream of swear words from Bro before D manages to pin Bro to the flat hot roof.

“You motherfucker. You crazy son of a bitch. You batshit insane fucker. I am going to murder you, you son of a fuck. Goddamn shithead. Fuck you, bastard.”

D is wrapped around Bro like a professional MMA fighter. His legs are locked around one arm and his neck, almost pressing those short shorts against Bro’s face. His own arms are wrapped around Bro’s leg, pinning one of them awkwardly back. The position both renders Bro unable to move and puts D’s face over Bro’s crotch, which D lets him know with a brief nuzzle, bringing back the boner that had disappeared at the scare with the sword.

“Hey, Bro,” He croons. “Big. Bad. Bro. You gonna surrender for me?” He’s greeted with silence. “Or am I gonna have to draw blood?” he threatens before mouthing the shape now straining against Bro’s zipper. As much as Bro might actually enjoy it, D doesn’t actually want to bite his dick. But Bro is stubborn to the end. It’s a long couple minutes of Bro straining against D’s hold and various curses chiding D for his reckless behavior. But as D continues to nuzzle and mouth Bro’s cock, the worthless words eventually die down.

Finally he murmurs, “I surrender.”

In a flash, D releases Bro and moves to straddle Bro’s upper chest, sliding his crotch up to Bro’s face, where it’s been comfortably hanging out anyways. D’s hands slide up Bro’s arms until they settle around his wrists.

“Thanks for not stabbing me, Bro.”

“Fuck you, D.”

“That’s not on my agenda. But I still want that hummer I mentioned earlier.”

“Even Dave had the balls to fuck me after he won.”

“Oh I know. I remember watching you crawl across the floor. Still not what I want though. But that does remind me of our audience,” he twists around to look at the twins still sitting on the air conditioning unit, “You boys like blow jobs right?” He waves them over before returning his attention to his captive.

The shiny material of his short shorts is already being stretched by the erection caused by the anticipation of a blow job. He sighs when he pulls the waistband down over his cock, releasing pressure and letting it spring out to brush against Bro’s mouth. He lets out an airy moan as Bro’s tongue flicks across the head. D rolls his hips a little, pushing his dick against Bro’s lips in an inpatient gesture. Bro obeys by opening his mouth as he tips up his head to take in more of D’s cock. D’s moans become more pronounced as the wet heat envelops him. Between D’s rocking hips and Bro’s bobbing head, they set a pretty good rhythm.

D’s attention only flickers away from where Bro’s lips are sliding up and down his shaft when he hears the sounds of simultaneous zippers being pulled down. He glances up as both twins pull their cocks out and start stroking them to full mast. D absently licks his lips, which Dirk catches and smirks back at him, but it’s not his duty to blow them. That’s Bro’s job as Bro’s humming moan reminds him of the action between his legs.

Bro’s tongue flicks along the crown of the head and the bottom of his shaft with every stroke. He makes sure to press his lips around D’s cock and adds light suction as D rolls backwards. Each slide in and out has D panting. Little noises come out when Bro swirls his tongue about. Bro’s hands twitch under D’s hold, wanting to grab his ass and pull him further into his mouth instead of suffering the shallow strokes that he manages in this position.

“Fuck, Bro. Your mouth feels so good. That tongue of yours is wicked. God damn. I am going to hell just because your fucking mouth, because fucking your mouth feels so fantastic. This is truly a perfect reward for beating your ass. Oh god. Couldn’t think of better. Oh yea, suck my cock, Bro, suck it good.”

D gets louder and louder until Dirk has to step in and muffle him with a kiss.

“Damn, D. Gotta shut you up before you tell all the neighbors what we are doing before we get a turn,” Dave explains as Dirk holds D’s head back by his hair, swallowing his pants as Bro continues to tease him with that wicked tongue.

It doesn’t take long before D is scrambling away from Bro and his devilish mouth. He takes several breaths to calm himself and get back under control. Bro uses his new range of freedom to prop himself up on one shoulder.

“That good, huh? Ya sure ya dun wanna do more?”

“Hah, hah, yea,” D answers breathlessly. “I’m sure.” He stands up, giving Bro more room. Bro takes it and shifts to his knees. Three cocks are waiting at his eye level. D takes another step back and pulls the twins forward until they are standing side by side. It’s Bro’s turn to lick his lips as both Dirk and Dave grab their cocks and push the heads together near his mouth. He patiently waits though for D’s cue. “I want to see you try to take both of them. Put that big mouth of yours to the test.”

Bro smiles a brief moment before opening his mouth up wide and leaning in. He manages to get both head past his lips. The awkward angle caused by their hips prevents any more, but he lavishes the distance that he can reach with his tongue. D moves around to the side so he can watch. He moans appreciatively at the sight and grips his own cock. He strokes himself to the sight of his two twin brothers kissing as their older brother gives them a joint blow job. He has to keep his grip light to keep from losing it too early; he wants another go at Bro’s hot mouth.

But neither Dave nor Dirk have that compunction. In true twin fashion, they set a perfectly alternating rhythm. One pushes farther into Bro’s mouth as the other pulls back. Bro has to turn his head back and forth to catch the incoming cock head, continuing to keep them bound together with his lips. He eventually lifts his hands up to grip the remaining lengths of their shafts and starts working them with his leather covered palms. Their joint heavy breathing and soft moans don’t cover the wet sloppy sounds of the double barrel blow job.

Dave is the first to cry out, shoving his hips forward. His dick twitches as his orgasm rips through him. Bro maintains a tight grip on his dick, the rough texture obviously adding to Dave’s pleasure. While Dirk loses contact with Bro’s mouth, he knocks Bro’s hand away and takes it upon himself to stroke his cock. He comes with a push forward and a deep groan as soon as Dave pulls away, a thin string of saliva still connecting Bro’s lips to the tip of his spent cock. Bro eagerly swallows down the second of the pair. He smacks his lips wetly when Dirk also steps back.

With swollen lips, Bro twists around slightly and looks up to D.

“Still only gonna be satisfied with a blow, bro?”

“Hell yes.” D steps forward swiftly, grabs the back of Bro’s head and feeds him his cock in that awkward angle. The head brushes against the inside of his cheek and Bro does the best he can to minimize the risk of hitting D with his teeth. D doesn’t seem to care much as he continues to leverage Bro’s head back and forth by gripping his hair.

Of course with the previous work on top of watching the twins get theirs, it doesn’t take much longer before D is pulling Bro’s head tight against his crotch and coming down his throat.

“Ah, fuck Bro!” he cries out followed by a couple more curses. He’s panting and his knees feel like jelly when he finally pulls back. Vaguely he hears the roof door closing. He hope that it’s the boys heading back down to the apartment and not some going-to-be scandalized neighbor. As there are no shrieks of horror as he pulls his short shorts carefully and uncomfortably (why did he think these were a good idea) tucking himself away, they are probably in the clear.

“As fun as givin’ blow job is, when’s it gonna be my turn, D?”

“Who says losers get turns?” D answers with a wide, satisfied grin. Bro gives him a look and it doesn’t take much more than that to get D racing toward the roof stairs.

**Author's Note:**

> For more information please check out our work at striderclan.tumblr.com; we have more stories, head canons, art/pictures.


End file.
